


Lullaby of Woe

by saintgenevieve



Series: The Grey Lady [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Fights, Friendship, Like so much angst guys, Mentors, Sarcasm, Warden Carver Hawke, tragic backstories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintgenevieve/pseuds/saintgenevieve
Summary: Surana turned her the full force of her clear gaze on Carver. “Is that true? Your mother is Leandra Amell? Cousin to Revka Amell?”“I...yes. My mother mentioned a cousin once, but how would you know her? She never left Kirkwall, and committed suicide after all her children were taken from her.”“I knew one of her stolen children, of course. The third, Solana, was one of my closest friends when we were in the Circle of Magi at Kinloch Hold. She was clever and powerful. Are you a mage, Carver?"His face turned cherry red and he looked away, suddenly furious.Or, Liadan Surana takes one look at Carver and immediately takes him under her wing, as she does with every wayward soul she meets.
Relationships: Past Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age) - Relationship, Past Anders/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Series: The Grey Lady [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556026
Kudos: 11





	1. Impressions

“Stroud, so good of you to finally arrive here at Vigil’s Keep,” Liadan Surana said pleasantly, lounging back on her throne atop the dais, dressed surprisingly simply in only the robes of a mage. She looked nothing like an Arlessa, in Carver’s opinion. 

“I am sorry, Warden-Commander. I was delayed somewhat in the Deep Roads.”

“By what? An Archdemon?” Surana said wryly. “Did you find one down there in the depths?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. 

“That would be just your luck, Commander. Another Blight.” the man to her right muttered, making the flame-haired dwarf on her other side guffaw. 

Surana’s eyes slid to where Carver stood just behind Stroud, and smiled at him. “We’re not always like this. Nathaniel Howe, my Warden-Constable, is a pessimist, and Oghren, one of my Senior Wardens, is drunk, so you’ll have to forgive them for their dreadful manners. Sigrun and Velanna, my other Senior Wardens are much better behaved than them.”

“Sigrun, maybe,” Nathaniel admitted. “But Velanna insults every human she meets.”

Surana seemed to think about that for a moment, and then nodded and faced Stroud again. “So, what did you find?”

“A recruit. This is Carver Hawke.”

Surana stood and approached them. “He’s not a recruit, he’s already undergone the Joining. I can sense it.”

“I met Anders in the Deep Roads. With him he had a human woman, a dwarf, and this lad—who had already unfortunately been blighted by the time they found us. Anders asked me to save him by making him a Warden. The woman, the boy’s older sister begged me to save his life.”

“Hmmm. You could barely stand Anders when you met him. I didn’t think you’d do him any favors, especially since you’ve called him a deserter more than once.”

“He said you’d be angry if the boy died.”

“Anders said that? Why? What else did he say?”

“The boy’s mother’s name is Leandra Amell of Kirkwall—that’s all he said.”

Surana turned her the full force of her clear gaze on Carver. “Is that true? Your mother is Leandra Amell? Cousin to Revka Amell?”

“I...yes. My mother mentioned a cousin once, but how would you know her? She never left Kirkwall, and committed suicide after all her children were taken from her.”

“I knew one of her stolen children, of course. The third, Solana, was one of my closest friends when we were in the Circle of Magi at Kinloch Hold. She was clever and powerful. Are you a mage, Carver?”

His face turned cherry red and he looked away, suddenly furious.

“I take it you’re not, but you have siblings who are, then. Well, are you a warrior, then?”

“He is. And from what he’s shown me, a good one,” Stroud interjected. 

“Well, then, we’ll have to get him some new armor, and some new weapons. Do you prefer a sword and shield or a two-handed weapon, Hawke?”

Carver jolted. Surana had never met his sister, so he was to take the family name. How strange, to have never been called that before. No, it had always been his father first, and then his sister. Never him. “Two-handed, Warden-Commander,” he managed to say. 

She grinned. “Well then, I’ll have Nate show you to the armory and you can pick out a weapon, and then we’ll have someone take your measurements for armor and other necessary clothes before dinner. Don’t worry, life as a Warden can be better than you think.”

*

Carver wasn’t sure Surana had been telling the truth. He did a lot of grunt work. Training, of course, sparring and lessons on the darkspawn and templar training from the drunken dwarf Oghren to make him more effective against the dangerous Emissaries. But also grunt work and chores and menial tasks assigned to him because he was the newest Warden at Vigil’s Keep. It seemed a rather bleak existence, to just wait around to fight monsters. 

And yet, Vigil’s Keep seemed very alive. The Wardens seemed to welcome him with open arms, and lived life to the fullest, eating and drinking and sparring and just living with gusto. There also seemed to be fewer rules than when he was a soldier in Ferelden’s army—Surana looked to care very little for rank; she let her Wardens tease her and was familiar and friendly with everyone in the castle. So it shouldn’t have surprised him that much when she called him to her study. 

He knocked on the door, somewhat tentatively, worried that this was some kind of prank by the Senior Wardens, and not truly an invitation to speak with the Hero of Ferelden. _Maker, what have I gotten myself into?_

“Come in,” Surana called, her voice clear even through the heavy wooden door. 

Carver opened the door and stepped swiftly inside, not wanting to waste her time. “You summoned me, Warden-Commander?”

“I did. Take a seat. And when I’m not in public, or when we’re in a casual setting, I prefer my Wardens to call me by my name. You can call me Liadan, or Surana, it’s up to you, but there’s not much need to play games with titles here at Vigil’s Keep,” she said, sweeping her hand out to indicate one of the three chairs before the solid oak desk she sat behind. 

Carver took the middle seat, and glanced surreptitiously around, taking in the high slitted windows behind Surana, as well as the shelves and cabinets that lined the walls, full of books and potions and strange things that looked to be souvenirs from her travels. Her staff, a graceful curling thing that twined up from the ground to hold a gleaming crystal, leaned against her chair, easily in reach, and he saw a dagger on the desk and would have bet that there were more weapons hidden about. This was not a woman to be trifled with–and yet she seemed bafflingly friendly for the reputation she had as a veteran and vanquisher of a Blight. 

Liadan pushed a glass toward him full of amber liquid. “It’s West Hill Brandy, to celebrate our newest Warden. Too few survive the Joining, and it weighs heavily on me sometimes. That you survived while already Blighted speaks of your strength, both of body and soul. The life we lead isn’t easy by any means, but it can be bearable.”

“This wasn’t how I thought my life would go,” Carver said quietly. “The Blight destroyed my family. Took my father. My twin sister.” 

“I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been.”

Carver lifted the glass and took a drink. It was probably the most expensive thing he’d ever drunk, even after his sister had made friends with the barmaid Norah at the Hanged Man. “I would have died too, if not for my sister. If not for my escaping Ostagar.”

“You were there?”

“Part of Lothering’s contribution to the army. I wasn’t a very good soldier, according to the Guard Captain of Kirkwall,” Carver said, bitterness creeping into his voice. 

“I’m not a very good soldier either. This wasn’t what I expected out of my life either. I ask myself, sometimes, how I did get here? How did I wind up tangled up in the fate of the world? Just two year ago, I thought I would spend the rest of my life in the Circle at Kinloch Hold. I imagined that I would rise through the ranks of Enchanters, and eventually become First Enchanter when my mentor Irving eventually stepped down. And now I’m here, and I’ll spend the rest of my life fighting the darkspawn.” She took a sip of her own drink and then sighed. “Well, that got morose quickly.”

“Sorry,” Carver said, suddenly wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. 

“It’s alright. One can’t be a Warden without some tragic past to brood about and try to escape.”

“Did you want to stay in the Circle? My father escaped from the Gallows, and he said that all the Circles were terrible places. He lived as an apostate until he died.”

“I wanted to be free to make my own decisions and free to go where I pleased, when I pleased, without anyone watching me to see if I might lose control and become a monster. I just didn’t think I’d ever be free of the Circle—I figured I’d spend the rest of my life fighting for freedom from within. It was sheer happenstance that the previous Warden-Commander, Duncan, was at Kinloch Hold looking to recruit a mage and decided to conscript me. If he hadn’t been there…” She shook herself. “He saved me. Or, at the very least, he tried to.”

“Stroud told me all the Warden secrets he thought I needed to know. He told me about the Calling, and that only a Warden could kill an Archdemon. He said that the Warden who strikes the blow is supposed to die though.”

“Weisshaupt has been trying to get Stroud to get me to tell him how I survived and still ended the Blight. I’ll tell them eventually, but I’m waiting for word from a friend first. Tell him they’ll know soon enough, and that they should really stop annoying me about keeping secrets after what happened here in Amaranthine,” she grumbled. “Maker, I’m tired of the First Warden’s shit.”

Carver choked on his drink. 

Surana laughed, and then sobered a bit, looking sad and somewhat pensive. “Your cousin Solana, she had the same dark hair like you, and that same proud jaw. She was a bit older than me and was always teasing me. I get most of my sense of humor from her...and Anders, I suppose. I’m not surprised he tried to save your life, he and Solona were friends too, and I know he mourned her death as I did.”

“How did she die?”

“She didn’t pass her Harrowing. A demon possessed her, and the Templars killed her.”

Carver sucked in a sharp breath. His father had spoken somewhat of his own Harrowing, trying to illustrate to his children what the Circle was like, and the idea of Bethany or Marian having to do something so dangerous had made Carver’s blood run cold. “Maker.”

“In the end, the Circle killed her, as it kills everyone inside eventually. Maybe not literally, but in the end, the tower claims us all. Bleak, I know, but there are days when it seems that the Templars don’t even see us as people, but as monsters waiting to happen. It’s hard to live like that.”

“My father never missed it.”

“It’s incredible that he stayed free for so long. He must have been quite clever.”

“He was. My older sister is a mage, and my twin was a mage too.”

“So you’re the odd one out then? That must have been hard, growing up. I only had one sibling, an older sister, and I adored her. She had a great gift for crafting and blacksmithing and even got an apprenticeship with the best blacksmith and armorsmith in Denerim. Our father, a humble blacksmith himself was proud beyond words.”

“And your mother?” Carver asked curiously. 

“An apostate, as your father was. Though she was Dalish and lived free for thirty-eight winters. She was a great healer and a powerful mage. And of the three Templars that challenged her, only one survived the encounter. She died free,” Liadan said, eyes sad and distant. 

“My father was the first casualty of the Blight in Lothering. My twin, Bethany, one of the last. But they both died free too. With any luck, Marian will live longer and freer than either of them.” Carver declared, before downing the rest of his drink. 

“May we all die free,” Surana agreed, draining the rest of her glass in one long draw. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic is mostly self-indulgent because I really like Carver, even though he can be an enormous dick sometimes. I just really like the character development he gets as a Warden, and want to expand on that even further, with the help of my Warden, Liadan of course. I'm excited to explore some of her history with Solana Amell in the Circle as well.


	2. Deep Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An encounter in the Deep Roads.

_“That templar is watching you again,” Solana said softly, something dangerous in her voice._

_The templar in question was standing quietly beside a bookshelf, glancing carefully at Liadan every so often, almost as though he was unable to stop himself._

_“He doesn't mean anything by it, Sol. Cullen’s just a little infatuated with me, that’s all. He’s not one to act on such feelings though, and they’ll fade soon enough if I don’t encourage him,” Liadan responded reasonably, not looking up from her book. “I don’t want to start any trouble, and I don’t want you to start any either.”_

_Solana huffed. “Anders starts trouble all the time.”_

_“Anders is a spirit healer and is therefore rare and valuable. You don’t have any special abilities to protect you. I know it’s not ideal, but you need to keep your head down.”_

_“You don’t need to protect me, Liadan. I can take care of myself.”_

_“I don’t believe you.”_

_Solana laughed and elbowed her. “Why are you fussing over me and not Jowan? He’s the one making moon eyes at that new Chantry initiate.”_

_“Jowan doesn’t play pranks on the templars and doesn’t act like he has a problem with authority. You do. Please, Sol, please. You’ll be Harrowed soon, and then it’ll be a little better. Please just try,” Liadan begged._

_Solana sighed. “Fine. For you.”_

_Liadan’s shoulders relaxed in relief and she went back to her book._

*

“I really hate the fucking Deep Roads,” Surana snarled as an ogre charged at her. 

Carver grunted in agreement and lunged forward to intercept it, greatsword swinging in a deadly arc of silverite. He was practically drenched in blood, most of it not his own, and he really wanted a bath. It was all he’d thought about the past few days, well that and sunlight and killing darkspawn. 

“Where’s Nathaniel? He should have been back by now,” Velanna said, throwing a fireball into a group of hurlocks, worry evident in her voice. 

“Less talking, more killing!” Oghren yelled. 

“I agree with Oghren!” Sigrun’s daggers flashed as she moved, dangerous despite their diminutive size. 

Another ogre roared, and Carver was starting to wonder if he’d be killed in the same ignominious way Bethany had died. But then there was a strange blue glow in his periphery and Fenris— _why the bloody fuck is he here?_ —charged past him, snarling with rage. Carver refocused on the fight, felling every darkspawn in his path until there were none left. 

“Carver!” his older sister cried, tackling him in a hug that he probably wouldn’t have returned a few years ago. But after what had happened in the Vimmark Mountains, after realizing how much she truly cared about him, he couldn’t force himself to be cold to her. She didn’t deserve that. 

“What are you doing down here, Marian? It’s dangerous!” He tried desperately to sound as authoritative as their mother had. Unfortunately, it came off more worried than scolding. 

Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Apparently my sister panicked about my long absence and asked the Champion of Kirkwall to track me down here. Warden-Commander, I’m sorry I’m late,” he said. 

But Surana wasn’t paying any attention to him, she was watching Anders with a queer look on her face, and he was watching her right back. Neither looked particularly happy to see each other. Considering the mood she had been in after she’d visited Kirkwall a few weeks ago, he figured that they’d quarreled about something. 

“Liadan Surana,” Isabela purred, stepping in front of Anders to command the elf’s full attention. “It’s a _pleasure_ to see you again. I was quite put out when we didn’t run into each other while you were in the city.”

Surana flushed slightly, the tips of her ears going pink. “Captain Isabela, hello. Nice to see you again.”

“Very nice,” the pirate said, looking her up and down. 

“Bela, behave,” Marian said, finally releasing Carver. “Sorry, Warden-Commander. She’s always like that.”

“Oh, I know. We met during the Blight, several years ago.”

“We had a lovely time aboard my ship, as I recall. You…me…and that handsome king of yours. Maker, that man was a marvel. Not that you weren’t, of course.” 

Carver gaped. “Commander, please tell me she’s joking. Please tell me you didn’t.”

Surana shrugged, still blushing. “What can I say? I was nineteen and I wasn’t sure I was going to live to see twenty.”

“Perhaps we could discuss the Commander’s sexual prowess later? Once we’ve set up camp and have eaten a little bit,” Nathaniel suggested. 

“An excellent idea, Nate.” Surana smiled welcomingly at Marian and her companions. “Navigating the Deep Roads is exhausting. Would you like to join us? I’m sure you’d like to spend a little time with your brother.”

“I would, thanks. Carver rarely writes,” Marian complained. 

“I’m busy,” he grunted. “Just ask the Warden-Commander.”

Soon enough, the two groups settled around a fire that Velanna very helpfully started with magic, and were sharing rations. Beside Carver, his sister sat, fussing over him and Fenris in turns, smiling and cracking jokes. He’d missed her, in his own sort of way. 

Surana looked exhausted from where she sat across the fire, very carefully not looking at Anders while Isabella flirted with her. He wondered what had happened, but was rather glad it wasn’t his mess to deal with. 

“Carver mentioned, in one of his few letters, that you knew one of our cousins, Warden-Commander. Is that true?” Marian asked. 

“Call me Liadan, and yes, it is,” Surana answered. “Her name was Solana. Anders knew her, too, of course. The three of us were friends in the tower. You look….very like her.”

“What was she like?”

Surana thought for a moment. “She was fearless, and an incorrigible prankster. Solana had the best laugh, and just hearing it could make anyone smile.”

“You remember the time she stole all of Jowan’s robes and replaced them with ones that were too small? He looked so ridiculous coming into the library with his skinny knees on full display,” Anders said, smiling a little. 

“How could I forget? Maker, I was at my wit’s end trying to keep the two of you out of trouble,” Surana complained. 

“So what happened to her?” 

Surana looked away, face full of pain. “She…didn’t survive her Harrowing.”

Marian flinched. “Oh. I’m sorry. That must have been hard, to lose such a close friend.”

“It was. And it didn’t help matters that right after Anders tried to escape again and wound up in solitary confinement. He’s lucky the First Enchanter was able to convince the Knight-Commander not to make him Tranquil,” Surana said crossly. 

“I suppose I’m also lucky that on my seventh escape attempt you so magnanimously conscripted me into the Grey Wardens, isn’t that right? How lucky to be condemned to a lifetime of fighting darkspawn until the Calling takes me!” Anders hissed. 

Surana stood, lightning flashing in her eyes. “It’s better than living in some sewer! Maker, Anders, I’m sorry that the only freedom I could offer you wasn’t good enough.”

“I didn’t need your help!”

“The templar who wanted to hang you, and tried to kill you even after you were conscripted would have suggested otherwise!”

“Enough!” Nathaniel yelled. He turned to Anders. “Liadan is right to be angry at you. You’re the one who left, the one who abandoned your duty. She saved your miserable life, gave you a second chance, and this is how you thank her? I’m terribly sorry being a Grey Warden wasn’t glamorous enough for you, but you’ll not speak this way to the woman who has put her very reputation on the line for you! Liadan is the only reason Knight-Commander Merideth hasn’t dragged your ass to the Gallows yet. You’re lucky she doesn’t have you clapped in irons and taken back to Vigil’s Keep by force!” By the time he was done, his face was very red. Everyone seemed stunned by his outburst, especially him. 

Anders stared at Surana as though he’d never seen her before. “You told Merideth to leave me alone?”

She looked back at him, something soft and terribly sad in her eyes. “After Stroud told me you were in Kirkwall I might have written a letter to her saying that if she took you to the Gallows or hurt you in any way there’d be a steep price to pay.” Surana sighed. “I know a hopeless cause I see one; I’ll never be able to convince you to come back to Vigil’s Keep. But I will warn you: whatever you’re doing is going to blow up in your face, Anders, and when it does, I won’t be able to save you.”

Anders moved forward and pulled Surana into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“I know. So am I.” She pulled away. “We’ve rested long enough, and there’s still a lot of ground to cover. Hawke, say goodbye to your sister. Be ready to leave in five minutes,” she barked. 

Carver stood, taking Marian with him, and pulled her to the side. “I’ll write more, I promise,” he said. 

His older sister smiled at him. “I’d appreciate that. I worry, I hope you know, about my baby brother fighting monsters.”

“I worry, too, you know. Kirkwall seems set to tear itself apart at any moment, and you’re caught in the middle. We’re the last Amells, the last Hawkes; you’re the only family I have left, Marian,” Carver said seriously. 

She laughed. “Lighten up, Carver. Kirkwall will be fine, and so will I. Trust me.”

“Always, sister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Anders and Liadan have some issues. Poor Carver, to get stuck in the middle.


	3. A Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver sat and didn’t touch anything. “So…what are you doing down here?”
> 
> “Research.”
> 
> “To cure the Blight? To stop the Calling?”

“Have you seen the Warden-Commander today, Hawke?” Stroud asked.

Carver shook his head. “I think she’s in her laboratory. Or, at least, that’s what I heard the Seneschal saying earlier. I don’t think anyone has seen her all day.”

“What could she be doing down there?” Stroud stroked his mustache pensively. “You’re friendly with her; do you know?”

Carver shifted awkwardly. “Er…Oghren made a joke about her trying to figure out how to cure the Blight last week, but he was drunk so…” 

“That dwarf is always drunk. And the Maker knows the Warden-Commander won’t do anything about it.”

“Maybe, but he’s handy in a fight,” Carver said, feeling oddly defensive. “Surana does her best.”

“Perhaps. But she’s strange and unpredictable and rarely where one expects her to be. And she still won’t tell Weisshaupt many things. If she is truly searching for a cure for the Blight, the First Warden needs to know.”

“And you want me to go down there and see if she’ll tell me anything,” Carver guessed. 

“She likes you, certainly more than she likes me. You remind her of a long lost friend,” Stroud reasoned. 

“She’d probably like you more if you didn’t disagree with her all the time,” Carver suggested. 

Stroud gave him a look. “Get down there and see what you can find out, Hawke.” 

*

_“I’ve been summoned for my Harrowing,” Solana whispered in the dark, pulling her robes on by touch._

_Liadan sat up, rubbing blearily at her eyes. “You’ll do great,” she said around a yawn._

_“I know,” Solana said airly, keeping her voice soft so as not to wake any of the other apprentices. “Will you wait for me to get back? I’ll tell you all about it.”_

_“Of course. I’ll miss you when you move up to the second floor. We’ll barely see each other.”_

_Solana touched her hair gently. “I’ll miss you too, but you’ll be Harrowed soon, and then we can be roommates again. It won’t be forever.”_

_“It won’t be forever,” Liadan repeated. “Good luck.”_

_“As if I need it. I’ll come back, I promise.”_

_And then she slipped away. Liadan laid back again but didn’t sleep. Instead, she waited, staring up into the darkness of the top bunk above her, thinking of how exciting it would be to no longer be an apprentice. It wouldn’t be the freedom she so longed for, but it would be a step closer._

_The hours slid past like water through a sieve, but Liadan couldn’t sleep and Solana didn’t return. There were no windows in the apprentice quarters, so she really couldn’t tell how much time had passed since Solana had left, but with every beat of her heart, her anxiety grew._ **Why haven’t they brought her back yet?** _Liadan couldn’t help but wonder._ **Has something gone wrong? Is she alright? Why am I so afraid?** _With every passing hour, her fear grew until she was trembling beneath the covers, unable to do anything but wait. But Solana never came._

 _Eventually, the apprentices were woken, the lanterns were lit, and everyone began the day. Liadan dressed quickly and hurried through the halls and up the stairs until she stood before Irving’s office, heart in her throat._ **Maker, Mythal, whoever is listening, please let Solana be alright. Please.** _She knocked on the door._

_“Come in,” Irving called._

_She did as he said, and closed the door behind her. “Good morning, First Enchanter.”_

_“Ah, Liadan, I thought you might come to see me.” Irving stood. “Perhaps you should sit down, child. The news I have for you will not be easy to hear.”_

_Liadan shook her head. “Solana’s dead, isn’t she? That’s why she never came back.”_

_“She was possessed by a demon during her Harrowing. I am sorry, child, but she’s gone.” Irving sounded sad but calm. It was nothing new after all, an apprentice being possessed and killed during a Harrowing. Such was the way of their world._

_Liadan’s eyes filled with tears. “She promised me she’d come back. She said…” She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, could only sink to her knees, bury her face in her hands, and weep for her lost friend._

*

The Warden-Commander’s laboratory had become something of a legend around Vigil’s Keep. Surana had redesigned one of the dungeons below the Keep so that she could make potions and conduct research without anyone bothering her. There were shelves upon shelves of strange herbs, some fresh, some dried, as well as many other exotic ingredients. Surana was, after all, a master herbalist, and Carver had often been grateful for the health potions she made for her Wardens. There were also various potions and poultices, books of spells and recipes, and other strange things he couldn’t name. The scents of lyrium and elfroot filled the room. 

“If Stroud sent you down here to find me, you can go back up and tell him that I’m busy and don’t have time for his shit today,” Surana said, resolutely not looking up from the potion she was brewing. 

“I mostly came down here to hide from him,” Carver admitted. 

Surana chuckled. “Well, in that case, you’re more than welcome to stay. You can sit down over there,” she said, motioning to a chair, “but don’t touch anything, please.”

Carver sat and didn’t touch anything. “So…what are you doing down here?”

“Research.”

“To cure the Blight? To stop the Calling?”

“I really can’t tell Oghren anything, can I?” she huffed. “But, if you must know, yes. I am trying to cure the Blight. So far, I’ve found nothing conclusive. At the rate I’m going it’ll take me years and years, and I’m not sure I have the time.”

“Have you…begun to hear the Calling?” Carver breathed. 

“Not yet. But it comes sooner for those who have seen the end of a Blight. The Maker only knows why. I’m not yet thirty, but I think it will come for me soon.”

“Maker,” Carver swore. “Surana…I am so sorry.”

“I don’t need your pity,” she snapped. Then she sighed. “I’m sorry, that was unworthy of me. I just haven’t been sleeping well. My dreams have been troubled, as of late, and I’ve found myself down here far too much.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No. And anyway, this day, in particular, is hard for me. It’s the anniversary of Solana’s death, and I find myself often missing her around this time. She was very dear to me, and losing her was unexpected and terrible.” Surana stopped fiddling with her potion and finally looked at Carver. “Her eyes were very like yours.”

“Would you tell me about her? If it’s not too painful, that is.”

“Solana was so beautiful.” She smiled softly, eyes far away. “She had such lovely hair, and when neither of us had any lessons we would while away the hours brushing each other’s hair. She teased me and everyone around her mercilessly, but she had a good heart. And she always smelled like flowers, though I have no idea how she got her hands on some perfume. I miss her, as you must miss your sister.”

“I do miss Bethany. She was always quieter than me or Marian, and smarter too. She was good at stopping us from fighting. I think she wanted, more than anything, to have a normal life and sometimes I think she wished she hadn’t been a mage…that she was more like me.” Carver swallowed hard. “She deserved better than what she got.”

Surana moved forward and gently laid her hand on Carver’s shoulder. “She would be proud of you. You’re a good man, Carver, and a good Warden. Though I wish you’d come to us in a different way, I’m glad Anders convinced Stroud to save you.”

“Thank you,” Carver said, slightly stunned. 

“Thank _you_ for listening to me go on. I don’t often speak of her, so it’s nice to remember sometimes. And the pain can be a little easier to bear when you share it with someone.” Surana turned away. “Now, I should probably get back to work. The Blight won’t cure itself, after all.”

“Should I tell Stroud what you’re doing?”

Surana tapped her chin, thinking for a moment. “Why not? Perhaps Weisshaupt has information that I could use. I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to die down in the dark.”

“No,” Carver agreed. “You’re really not. And if anyone can find a cure, it’s you.”

She laughed. “Your confidence is appreciated. I hope it's not in vain."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I do this to myself?


	4. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you alright, Commander?”
> 
> “Call me Liadan or I’ll fry you with lightning.”

Carver found Surana up on the battlements, staring out towards the city of Amaranthine, an empty bottle of Golden Scythe 4:90 Black beside her. He recognized the bottle because Oghren had shown it to him once, and said it had been a gift that he’d been saving for a special occasion. Carver supposed that one’s oldest living friend blowing up a Chantry and starting an unwinnable war was as good an occasion as any—though it was a few months late. 

“Are you alright, Commander?”

“Call me Liadan or I’ll fry you with lightning.”

Carver smiled a little and sat down beside her. “Liadan, then. Did you drink that entire bottle?”

“Don’t tell Oghren. I stole it from his private stash.” 

“I see. Are you alright?”

“Not really. The news from my various contacts is bad, to say the least, and it’s only going to get worse. Anders has sparked a conflict that was a long time coming, and won’t be ended easily. I knew it was going to be hard when you returned from Kirkwall, but now…” She trailed off. “One of my mentors from my time in the Circle, Wynne, is dead. The Circle of Dairsmuid was annulled without provocation by the Seekers and the templars. Anders is gone, maybe dead, maybe in hiding, and I’m going to be roped into cleaning up his mess. And do you know what the worst part is?”

“What?” Carver asked. 

“I can’t honestly say I disagree with what he did.”

His jaw dropped. “But how can you agree with Anders? How can you say what he did was justified? He’s an abomination, and my sister should have killed him when she had the chance,” Carver said vehemently. 

Liadan sighed. “You have no idea what it’s like to live in a cage. To wake up each morning knowing that there is no escape and that your jailors expect you to turn into a monster at any minute. I didn’t choose to be a mage, I was born this way. And I hate the Chantry for what they did to me because of it. How many mages have died or been made Tranquil because they refused to play by the Chantry’s rules? How many elves were slaughtered during the Exalted March on the Dales? The Chantry committed genocide against my people and there were no consequences. They have subjugated mages for hundreds of years, branding anyone who challenged them heretic, apostate, or maleficar. What Anders did, while ill-advised, was an act of justice.”

Carver took a deep breath, reaching for calm. “Justice or vengeance?” 

“Depends on who you ask, I suppose. They’re two sides of the same coin. I’m not sure if it was the right thing to do, but it feels justified to me. The Chantry has committed countless crimes against so many people and has never been held accountable. Until now.” Liadan sighed again. “This was inevitable. You can’t treat people the way mages are treated in most of Thedas and expect them to never fight back.”

Carver’s thoughts turned to his older sister who had done so much to stay free. Who had helped anyone who asked, who had always done her best to free the mages she came across. Marian had never let her fear of the Circle or the Chantry stop her from doing what she had to do. And she had been right to fight Merideth, to stop her from annulling the Gallows and killing dozens of innocent mages. 

“The system the Chantry set up doesn’t work. It never worked—Anders was just the final straw, and he made the problems impossible to ignore any longer,” Liadan continued, still gazing out across the fields and toward the distant sea. 

“You’re right. It didn’t work. My father hated living in the Gallows, he thought the Chantry was wrong, and there was nothing he could have done but escape. He lived his life on the run, not just for himself, but to protect my sisters. He never used his magic to hurt anyone; he only wanted to be left alone, to live freely. He deserved more than to spend his life hiding,” Carver finally admitted. 

“I’m glad you understand, even if you don’t approve of what Anders did.”

“Would you have done the same?” Carver asked. “If you’d been in his position?”

“I don’t know. The problem with carrying a spirit inside your body is that spirits and living people are very different. They don’t feel emotions the way we do. When Anders agreed to share his body with Justice, both of them were irrevocably changed. Anders became harsher, less forgiving and Justice became angry and bitter about all the terrible things in the world he couldn’t fix. And as the situation in Kirkwall deteriorated, I imagine so did they. All that injustice, all the suffering, it must have been driving them mad,” Liadan said, fingers drumming restlessly on her legs. “I think, had I been in Anders’ position, I might have simply hired an assassin to deal with Merideth, instead of going after the Chantry.” 

“Do you really think mages can’t compromise with the Chantry and the templars?” Carver queried. 

“If one side sees the other as worth less than them, then no. If they cannot see us as anything other than monsters waiting to happen, if they cannot acknowledge us as people, then there can be no compromise,” Liadan insisted, eyes hard. 

“So…what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to leave Vigil’s Keep and go search for a cure for the Blight,” she announced. “The mage-templar war can go on without me. I’m not getting involved—not right now, anyway. I’ve begun to hear the Calling, Carver. It’s faint, still soft, but I can hear it like a siren’s song, beckoning me down towards the dark.”

He swallowed hard. “It will be emptier without you here.”

“You’ll survive. Nathaniel will keep an eye on things, and I’ll be back before you know it.” Liadan smiled at him. “You’re a good friend, Carver, and I’m grateful for it.”

Carver nudged her shoulder with his. “I’m grateful to you, too, you know. You’ve taught me a great deal.” 

“The Wardens are lucky to have you. You’ll take care of them while I’m gone, won’t you? Keep Oghren from drinking too much, and Nate from pulling his hair out?”

Carver laughed. “I’ll do my best. You will come back, won’t you?”

Liadan nodded. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's all for this fic. Carver will probably show up again at some point. Their friendship was fun to write, and I look forward to fucking around with Liadan's life in my current and future fics. Thanks for reading!


End file.
